


Fever Dreams

by alien_lord



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fever, Sickness, Whump, getting better, possible death, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alien_lord/pseuds/alien_lord
Summary: Set during the hemorrhagic fever during season 1. Clarke does her best to care for the sick people while being sick herself, and tries to comfort Bellamy.





	Fever Dreams

The hemorrhagic fever had spread through the camp quickly. The grounder’s were stronger than the 100 had assumed, and they were paying for the war they didn’t know how to end. Clarke had done her best to keep a quarantine, but people hadn’t known to be careful, and the fever had spread. She was over run with patients in the drop ship, and herself exhausted from the fever. 

“When they start coughing roll them onto their sides,” she told Octavia and Murphy, who were trying to help her with the influx of patients. “It stops them from drowning in their own blood”. She stopped for a second to cough, her whole frame shaking as blood trickled out of her nose. 

“You need to rest-“ Octavia told her, pressing her to lay down. “We can keep track of everyone, you need to get better”. 

Clarke shook her head, and continued her work. It wasn’t long after that they brought Bellamy in. He wasn’t happy, he never was, and complaining all the way. Clarke went over to wipe his brow with a damp cloth. Bellamy was delirious, the fever racking his body. Blood had leaked out his eyes and nose, and the corner of his mouth was crusted too.   
Clarke ignored how tired she was, and worked at getting him cleaned up. She rubbed the cloth against his cheek, careful to not disturb him. Sweat rolled off his brow and he tossed in his fevered sleep. She pulled the blanket down, making sure not to overheat him. 

Bringing water to his lips to try and get him to drink, she was struck by how beautiful he was when he was sleeping. He didn’t have the angry expression that always held his brow in a tight furrow. His lips were full, and though they were chapped from the fever, they were still beautiful. Clarke momentarily wondered what it would be like to press a kiss to them. She shook her head, and ignored the thought, she was sick, it was the fever that was making her think this way.   
She got him to take a sip of water, before she sat down in the chair beside his bed to rest. She must have drifted into a light sleep because she was jolted awake by Bellamy’s coughing. 

Crouching down on the floor, she pushed him onto the side. “You need to stay on your side-“, Clarke told him, straining to move his heavy frame. Bellamy didn’t have a lot of fat on his body, but he was incredibly muscular. 

Bellamy grabbed at her wrist, and Clarke jumped. “Am I dying?” He croaked, his voice thick and scratchy.   
“No, of course not.” Clarke reassured him, his hand still holding her wrist tightly. “I’m here. You’ll be just fine, we just have to wait for the fever to pass.” She dabbed the cloth on his forehead, and he let her wrist go. 

He coughed again, another trickle of blood leaking down the side of his mouth. “I’m scared-“ he told her, his eyes glazed over, sweat beading openly on his forehead.  
“I know-“ Clarke told him, and held his hand. “It will be okay, Bellamy”. Clarke meant what she said. She’d do her best to make sure that he was going to be just fine.   
Her heart tugged, seeing him like this in the bed. He was beautiful, and almost angelic right now. She could see right through his projected shell of aggression, and she could see a scared young man. 

All Clarke wanted to do was protect him and take care of him. She knew that Bellamy didn’t feel the same way about her, and it almost broke her heart. Clarke was strong, she knew how to control her emotions, and she wouldn’t cry about it now. 

Bellamy held her hand until he drifted back to sleep, and Clarke sat there for hours making sure he was going to pull through the night. When the sun started to rise the next morning, she still hadn’t budged from the spot on the floor. When Murphy and Octavia got up and started making the rounds, Clarke finally moved. She knew that Bellamy would make it, and was on the road to recovery. 

Taking one last fleeting look at him, she climbed into an empty hammock and slept. 

Bellamy woke not long after, he’d been having a nice dream. Clarke had been comforting him, and they’d been holding hands. His heart jumped in his chest a little at the memory. He’d felt so comfortable and loved, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

Glancing around, he saw her sleeping in the hammock on the other side of the drop ship, and knew it had to be a dream. Clarke would never hold his hand, and soothe him. He shook his head, what a silly dream. He knew that Clarke didn’t have any feelings for him, she was wrapped in an awkward triangle with Finn and Raven, she didn’t have time for him.


End file.
